novelraw Chapter 94: ' The Bridge ' Part II
Chapter 94: ' The Bridge ' Part II
Chapter 94: ' The Bridge ' Part II
Hello everyone. Here's a new chapter for you.
Finally, the cover and the reworked Prologue have been completed.
If you'd like to take a look, here is the new rewritten version of Paladin Of Old Gods. (I am attaching the image of the new full cover here on the side).
Thanks again to all my supporters who have partially funded this work! As I raise funds I will publish more and more professionally revised and translated chapters.
I will of course continue to post the continuation of the story here, but be aware that they will always be drafts edited and translated from free sites.
I can guarantee the quality of the texts up to and not beyond a certain point.
About the other work... Well, if you find mistakes or inconsistencies you can do your worst with criticism (hopefully it will be merciless but also constructive). Ahaha!
In the future, I'd like to have the characters I created drawn as well.
Master Zick 'The Watcher', Ramas, The King in Yellow and Ser Haymitch 'The Drunk' will take priority.
If you'd like to help me raise the funds, here's a crowdfunding link for emerging artists:
/duncanrandargotpaladin
Thanks to everyone and happy reading!!!
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POV: A Cheese Merchant;
The Free City of Pentos.
Year 289; twenty-eighth day of the eighth moon. About three days before the attack on Pyke's fortress began...
Illyrio Mopatis was once a muscular and handsome mercenary, slim and tall. More than a decade had passed since his days of peak physical prowess. He had spent hundreds of gold coins to have an eight-foot statue erected in the courtroom of his mansion. It depicted a naked boy, no more than sixteen years old, standing in the water ready to duel with Bravoosi's blade. Although the sculptor had exalted the beauty of that young man to levels of Valyrian nobility, Illyrio still found his past self in that work.
After gaining wealth, influence and a stable position in the free city of Pentos, the former mercenary indulged in luxury and all the pleasures and comforts that gold and security could offer.
Illyrio had already almost reached three hundred pounds of body weight. He was one step away from reaching obesity. The piggy eyes, the fat cheeks, the huge white belly that now obstructed the view of his cock, and the two large flabby breasts that curved like sacks of suet covered in rough yellow hair, were all evidence of the decline that had brought this charming young man to a pit of pure nefariousness and squalor.
His beard was the only part of his body left that he could still be proud of. A long forked hair oiled and well-groomed to shine like the gold that Illyrio always tended to caress.
The room was deserted, no one would be able to hear the words that would soon be spoken in that room.
The Prince of Cheese's mansion had a level of security equal if not greater than that of the Prince Regent of Pentos. Illyrio believed that the thirty thousand gold coins spent in Astapor to purchase three centuria of unsullied were one of the best investments ever made.
"My dear friend. How long has it been since we last met?" Said a gentle, slightly effeminate voice behind Illyrio's back.
The master of the villa had not been taken by surprise. His old childhood friend had a habit of sensitively perfuming himself with essences of rosewater and lilac. Illyrio's olfactory memory could not be fooled.
"Four years, Varys. You may make yourself comfortable, my friend. You know this is a safe place." The magister replied, smiling at his longtime friend and ally guest.
"Forgive my rude ways... I still find it difficult to let go of old habits." The eunuch lowered his hood revealing his face concealed by shadow. A bald figure with a powdered face and no trace of hair, white hands clean and soft, dressed in fine fabrics of inconspicuous colours at first glance. A former beggar actor of Lys who to this day held one of the most important positions in the court of King's Landing. Varys, the master of whispers, nicknamed 'The Eunuch Spider' by many, was a few steps away from Illyrio.
"I thank you for coming this far. I hope you didn't have too much trouble fulfilling this selfish request of mine." Illyrio.
"Oh, no. Fear not, my friend. It was enough to report to the Queen that my duties as Master of Whispers required my presence in the North...
I promised the small council that I would return with valid information concerning the Northern lands... I hope you can facilitate my task." Varys.
" I have some informations... but I can't vouch for the quality or veracity, unfortunately. We're losing 'little birds' in Bear Island and the Bolton lands as well... White Harbor and Karhold are our last remaining great bastions. Lost even that cell, we'll be practically blind, Varys." Illyrio said with a slight tone of annoyance.
Only Illyrio knew exactly how much gold, time, and manpower he was losing trying to rebuild a viable network in the North.
It was a fact now that Torrhen's Square, Waterdeep, Barrowton, and Winterfell were off-limits. No agents or whisper traces were returning. Almost all of the great fortresses of the North were inaccessible.
A few little birds still managed to hold out in nearby villages or towns, but they reported mostly tavern talk, information that could have been obtained by getting an unsuspecting common merchant drunk...
"Phew... I was expecting that. I'll even settle for second-hand merchandise... Something about 'The Hero of the North'? Even a small rumour that could tarnish Bloody Snow's honour would temporarily satiate the ravenous ears of the Lioness of King's Landing." Varys asked in a small tone of supplication and expectation.
Before he died, my right-hand man, Silk Step managed to get me a relay with the nickname of the one at the head of a said group written on it.
The text was stained with his blood. The little bird that picked up the message is still traumatized. Fate is on its side, they almost captured the messenger as well.
The text-only read: {Blade One}. The text was written with fingers instead of a pen and blood instead of ink.
Whether for the value of the information or personal revenge, I demanded the 'Price' from the faceless men for this 'Blade One'... Well, let's just say my grudge wasn't worth three hundred and forty thousand Braavosian gold coins.
House Tallhart is breeding monsters, Varys." Illyrio said in a slightly pained tone. The gods only knew how rare good and capable men like Silk Step were. For more than fifteen years the former first sword of Braavos dishonourably discharged, had been in Illyrio's pay.
Silk Step was not only a very capable fighter, assassin, but he also had a survival instinct even superior to Illyrio's in his best glory days and a light and silent step almost as much as Varys. It would have been very difficult in the future to get his hands on anything like his height again.
Over these nearly six bloody years, these new espionage and counter-intelligence forces were putting many forces in Essos and Westeros through hell. Including those of Illyrio and Varys. They had no proof or direct connection that these so-called 'Blades of Frost' were in the service of House Tallhart. The few captured agents would take their own lives without any hesitation by biting into strange capsules containing a deadly fast-acting poison.
"Even if the Blades of Frost were truly in the service of House Tallhart, it would still have taken many years to train such individuals from scratch... The times do not coincide, my friend.
Do you think Bloody Snow's hand is behind the disappearance of Rhaegar's children? At the time, the boy must have been five years old at most.
The visit to Sunspear is suspicious sure, but it could also have been a visit for pleasure and commercial business for all we know.
It seems to me that this hypothesis has a very weak basis..." Varys.
"I would have continued to dismiss that possibility until a few months ago.
But successes in the field of that boy and that new elite force the 'Winter Guardians' are yet more proof that anomalies and inconsistencies are beginning to be the order of the day...
A little over three hundred Northern warriors holding their own in the field against five thousand ironmen?... I wouldn't be so sure that my Unsullied can do as well. How long have they been trained? Three years? Four?...
This is no coincidence, Varys." Illyrio took a moment to refresh his throat with a few sips of Arbor's finest wine.
He asked his guest with hand gestures if he would like some kind of refreshment, but Varys politely declined in silence.
Then Illyrio continued.
"We know for a fact that the Lions have failed in their hunt, that House Martell is directly involved in rescuing them and harbouring them somewhere safe, but Dorne would have no way of hiding them for that long anywhere. Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon would have had to constantly move from place to place. Is it not possible that in all these years of assiduous searching they left no trace?
There is someone else who supports House Nymeros Martell, my friend.
Don't let his age fool you. My friends in Braavos have recently let me know that at the time of the trade conflict between the North and House Tyrell, it was the boy himself who dealt in person with the Queen of Thorns... Monsters with such that develop maturity and intellect superior to the common man are very rare, but they do exist, Varys." Illyrio.
"You intend to ally with House Tallhart then?
From what you tell me, that house seems to be a bit too much in the centre of the storm for our liking... Also, the rumours about the supposed 'blessing of the Old Gods' seem to be more than just rumours. Many claims that during the duel against Denys Drumm that boy's sword glowed as if by magic as it cleaved the winning blow." Varys.
"If it is true that House Tallhart protects and hides the rightful Targaryen heir, we should carefully consider such a hypothesis. So yes, my friend, the possibility exists. In the last three years, my business has dropped by nearly a fifth instead of increasing. My pockets are deep, I don't deny it, but they are not unlimited...
I know how much you despise cultists and magic users, my friend, but times are changing... Many such incidents are occurring throughout Westeros and Essos. Rumours of the superhuman abilities of Khal Drogo and his priestess are more than confirmed.
Similar rumours from the Trident to the Vale of Arryn of a supposed 'Blessed of the Seven' nicknamed 'High Sparrow' performing miracles from village to village continually reach our ears. The sorcerers of Qarth continue to chant prophecies of the return of magic. Voices from the temples of the Lord of Light that Azor Ahai has risen and that the Long Night will return.
Rumours from Old Town that the order of believers of the Seven is rising. An order of fanatics with the sole purpose of exterminating and hunting down all unbelievers and lovers of the forces of evil... and just yesterday another rumour came along. According to many Redwine sailors and soldiers, Victarion Greyjoy and his younger brother Aeron are chosen ones of the Drowned God capable of using supernatural powers and forces.
Rumours in the North about this 'Seraphine', one of the rediscovered Old Gods who make the arid lands of the North fertile and protects the common people from the evils of winter don't seem so evil after all.
Magic was once a great force in the world, Varys. You must consider the very real possibility that supernatural powers forgotten by the known world may make a return. We cannot stop the tide, my friend, only navigate it. However much we may or may not like it." Varys didn't know how to respond. The spider stared pensively at the floor with his arms crossed and his hands neatly tucked between his long silk and velvet sleeves.
He nodded silently with a reluctant expression, thus giving assent to the arguments put forward by his old and trusted companion.
"... Even if I were to attend that wedding, I would have no foothold or allies to give me an escape route in case of 'extreme necessity ' should the negotiations fall through." Varys.
"Not yet, it is true, but I have been cultivating a possible 'Bridge' to connect us to the North for some time... If we are lucky and the opportunity arises, my man might even get into the good graces of Torrhen's Square.
He is currently located right in Pyke and is looking for a way to enter the service of House Tallhart. I have arranged for 'elements of possible recommendation' to help him out. Should he succeed, we will finally have valid eyes and ears in the heart of the North." Illyrio.
"A 'Bridge'? ...mmm... And is it 'solid'?"
End Part II